What it is to Feel
by Emerald Embers
Summary: Nearly every angel needs something they shouldn't. Michael/Gabriel


The human condition was peculiarly infectious.

Michael had been to Earth many times before the second messiah was born; fleeting visits, yes, but his recent visit had been much the same in length.

Still, he'd only become aware of that length, of how the passage of time felt, since he'd cut off his wings. Taking a human form felt like bearing a time bomb, every second important and potentially deadly.

His wings had been restored, but his sense of self hadn't entirely returned with it.

.

Gabriel's absence on Michael's return to Heaven was unsurprising given the conditions under which they had parted, but the other angels seemed not to notice; even if Gabriel was one of the highest commanders, the passage of a day meant little to any being that had been omniscient since creation.

Michael noticed, knew his concerns meaningless given the only beings capable of harming Gabriel were himself and God, but the passing weeks still scraped by.

Easing back into Heaven's routine helped as weeks turned into months, distracting him from the sense of displacement, but not so much that the worry faded altogether.

.

Raphael approached him before anyone else sensed his mood, gripped Michael by the neck and tilted his head back, seeing into him, seeing how best to heal.

Michael didn't fight his brother; Raphael's instincts were kind, and he'd been one of the few left stationed in Heaven during the purge. Someone had to keep guard, ensure no demons or Fallen attacked while the major part of Heaven's armies were absent, and Raphael's healing talents matched up with a defensive nature.

He'd never tested Raphael's strength, knew he would never have to.

"He'll return," Raphael said with calm certainty, before pressing his lips to Michael's forehead. "Give him his time alone, Michael. Your faith shook his."

He knew full well Raphael's comfort had come through force of habit, but the gesture was appreciated regardless. Moreover, it felt good to have someone other than himself voice a sensible belief. Gabriel would be fine; he simply needed solitude for a while.

.

Months turned into a year, into two years, then three, and what had been an immediate and gnawing fear had mellowed into occasional moments of contemplation, of a strange loneliness even amongst his other brothers and sisters. There was always something to take his attention away, work or prayers or play, taking care of those who made up his subordinates, looking at the achievements of the thousands who were subordinate to them.

It didn't change the nature of his concerns, only how he bore them, and how he answered the queries from other angels as to what might have warranted Gabriel's ongoing absence.

.

Gabriel had appeared on Earth to the thunder of horns and flashes of light; it seemed appropriate that his return to Heaven should be something equally dramatic, if not in sound and sight.

His face and armour were streaked with blood that was not his own, his expression a snarl, but Michael did not take up arms, waited for Gabriel to make the first move.

When Gabriel responded with silence, discarding his weapon and storming over, Michael did not entirely know what to make of his brother's reaction.

Arms around his waist and a kiss to his forehead that did not feel like a blessing, did not feel like anything measured or chaste, gave him an idea.

They should have broken the quiet with words, but Michael tilted his head up and nodded when Gabriel met his eyes, nodded his consent to having Gabriel's lips press against his nose, his cheek, his lips.

He didn't need to breathe, but gasped anyway when their lips parted before taking a kiss for himself, hungry for something he couldn't place despite having seen it a million times before on Earth.

Gabriel answered for him, pushed him back against the wall before sinking to his knees, hands steady and sure on the fastenings of Michael's robes, and he looked up again, seeking permission once more.

Michael nodded, cried out when Gabriel took him into his mouth.

Neither of them had done this before, but they had watched it often enough to know how it went.

.

Gabriel did not ask for the gift to be returned, pushed Michael's hands away when he went to reciprocate, but allowed an embrace, allowed Michael to brush away from his lips and armour what had been spilled.

"Where did you go?" Michael asked, wondering if they had lain there hours, or only minutes.

"Everywhere," Gabriel replied. "I had to see what you wanted to save."

"Did you?"

"No." There was a curious, bitter honesty there. "I felt jealousy, and I don't know where it came from, or why."

Michael closed his eyes as he pressed his lips into Gabriel's hair, felt the slight dampness of sweat against his skin. "I fought for them because I love them. I would even if He hadn't ordered it."

"Do you love them more than Him?" Gabriel asked, and Michael held in the sigh he wished to release, knew full well what had driven this conversation.

"I love them and I love Him. There is no scale for love. Loving one doesn't change how I love the other." They had come too far to hide behind disguised meanings and subtle words, and Michael stroked his fingers lightly down the back of Gabriel's neck. "I can love them and God and you in different ways without sacrifice."

"I fear my heart is far more selfish," Gabriel replied.

"I know it isn't. You can cease to like a thing, or forget why you liked it, but love doesn't die." He pulled away slightly, opened his eyes again so he could look at Gabriel's as he spoke. "You hesitated with Jeep. His bravery reminded you of what you once admired."

Gabriel was quiet for a moment. "You sound like Raphael."

"He is a bad influence," Michael replied, allowing himself to smile, relaxing despite himself when Gabriel smiled back.

.

Keeping Gabriel hidden was unfair to those who had wondered about his absence, even if Gabriel would have chosen to stay forgotten had the opportunity presented itself, and Michael walked with him through the back roads of Heaven so he could make a proper entrance at the gates. It was unnecessary to give Gabriel any further strength - his brother possessed bravery beyond that of any other angel, even archangel or seraph - but Michael took Gabriel's hand nonetheless, raised it to his lips and kissed it before stepping away.

"What should I say to them?" Gabriel said, more as a statement than a question, but Michael answered regardless.

"I missed you despite our last meeting ending in battle," Michael said. "I imagine they'll have words enough of their own."

Gabriel walked through the gates as if he had only just come back from Earth, and though Heaven held no true shadows or backgrounds, Michael knew his own presence faded into the background on account of Gabriel's return.

.

Raphael found him amidst the crowd, folded his arms and smiled. "You did the right thing, Michael."

"I had nothing to do with it," Michael replied, as sure of it in his heart as he was of anything else. "He found his own way home."

"It's easier with a light to guide your way," Raphael said.

It was a comparison Michael could appreciate, even if it bordered on blasphemy - bordered, because angels had not needed the same guide humans required to follow the right path. His kind had been made knowing the rules of Heaven; they had not been asked to learn them over time. "Will he recover?"

"He won't be the same," Raphael replied, honest to the point of being blunt. "But he could become something greater with the right help."

"Do you have that much faith in me?" Michael asked, the responsibility feeling at once a weight and yet strangely uplifting.

"Our Father does. I see no reason to disagree."

It was difficult to argue with Raphael's logic, and though at first Michael hoped he could live up to their expectations, he realised swiftly enough it had little to do with his own abilities. Following his heart had given humanity a second chance; following Gabriel's heart would give his brother the same.

.

The End


End file.
